Breaking Point
by Monochromatic Paint
Summary: You said you'd always be there. Now what the hell happened to that? AkuRoku AU
1. Chapter 1: Terrified of These Four Walls

Disclaimer: Nothing of the Kingdom Hearts world belongs to me. **Nothing. **And the title of the chapter is a line from "Savin' Me", which belongs to Nickelback.

A/N: Well, THIS right here is my PRECIOUS BABY, my main story, even if I have a few other ideas in the making. I'm gonna go ahead and say this in advance: I am REALLY sorry if I rush some parts or if I'm too wordy on other parts. I tend to do that… a lot. I don't really have that much experience in writing narratives seriously, and trust me when I say this: I'm pretty young compared to all the great writers on Well, let's get this show on the road, shall we?

Edit: Okay. I just reread it. I really didn't like a lot of parts, so I took a ton out and added some new stuff in. A lot of it is still the same as before, though. Hope this version is better? Enjoy! Oh, by the way, the new intro sounds better if you read it out loud to yourself. It adds feeling that way, especially, if you have dramatic pauses. :P

Started rewriting on 02.20.08 at about 5 A.M.

Finished editing on 03.12.08 at about 5:15 A.M.

* * *

Chapter 1: Terrified of These Four Walls

--

Once upon a time, there was a teenage boy. He had loving parents, an older brother who protected him whenever he could, and friends who cared about him. One day, he met a beautiful girl who made his heart flutter. They fell in love and lived happily ever after.

This is how it was supposed to be.

This is how it wasn't.

Once upon a time, there was a teenage boy. He had parents who seemed fake and conceited, friends who'd abandoned him at the first sight of trouble, and no one to depend on. Except for his older brother, that is. One day, he came home from school and locked himself in his room. He didn't come out. Not until his brother kicked the door open and found the teen curled up in his sheets, music blasting from the headphones around his neck, eyes shut, and mind off somewhere far away. His brother was all he had, and he knew that. He lived, not happily, but he did.

This is how it wasn't supposed to be.

But this is how it _was_.

* * *

Roxas didn't believe in Happily Ever After. He didn't care for One True Love. That was because it never worked out, not for him anyway. But what he'd always hated the most was lies. Friends moved on and left, even if they'd promised they'd always stay. Promises were broken and treated like trash. After all, who the fuck cared about chivalry these days?

It wasn't like he could do anything to change it, though. How could he, when all he could manage at the moment was resisting the urge to scream his Goddamn lungs out? He couldn't count how many times he'd wanted to in the past year; it was probably well into the thousands. He often felt that the walls were closing in on him, that the ceiling and sometimes the sky were about to come crashing down on him. He wanted to burst away from his life and run away somewhere. He didn't know where; all he knew was that he needed to do _something_ to get out. Maybe once he was out, he could just keep on running forever, never stopping, no restraints, nothing holding him back. Maybe he'd finally be _free_.

Roxas sat idly in his seat waiting for the class to finally start and distract him from thinking, absent-mindedly twirling his pencil in perfect arcs and spins in and about his fingers. With his free hand, he distractedly combed through his messy, blond hair that seemed impossible to tame. He needed _some_ way, _any_ way to keep himself busy.

_And he wanted to scream._ Again, that is. He just wanted to get out and escape this hell of a home, this hell of a city, this hell of a _life_. Yet still, no matter what happened, his face never seemed to betray the intense thoughts and emotions hidden behind his perfect, porcelain mask of pure apathy. He hadn't always been like this, but he was _just_ another teenager with issues, after all. There really was absolutely no need to worry about him. Really. And isn't it better when everyone thinks you're okay?

_And his heart panged with a dull emptiness._

The door suddenly swung open, effectively knocking Roxas out of his thoughts and revealing Zexion Winters, his English Literature AP class teacher. Eyes, well, eye, really—Zexion's slate-colored hair was _always_ perfectly combed and aligned to cover the right side of his face—, demanding silence, Zexion apathetically stared down at them from the front of the room, his hard gaze silencing the buzzing chatter that had dominated the class before his arrival.

"We are having a new student join the class today. " Zexion's soft, clear voice sliced and rang through the silent classroom as his shoes clicked, and very nearly echoed, across the linoleum floor. He gestured for someone to enter the classroom with a flourish of his left arm, and all eyes, save Roxas's, instantly shot toward the door.

Roxas could care less about some new student. _It's just another student in this already crammed school_, he thought Feeling no obligation to even act interested, Roxas continued to stare down at the small print of his textbook.

"The name's Axel. Axel Fyras, got it memorized?" the new kid lazily drawled as he strutted into the classroom, right hand tapping at the side of his head with a long, slender index finger, the other hand tucked nonchalantly into his pocket.

Not allowing any valuable class time to be wasted on introductions, Zexion swiftly continued, "Moving right along, Mr. Fyras, your seat for the remainder of the year is seat 4-D, adjacent to Mr. Strife." With another graceful sweep of his arm, Zexion presented to Axel his seat.

Roxas's eyes shot up at the mention of his name. It wasn't until Axel had begun sauntering toward his newly appointed seat that Roxas acknowledged the new student's presence. He instantly took in Axel's vibrant, red hair that would put strawberries to shame and that instantly brightened the otherwise dull room and his deep, emerald, jade green eyes that nearly seemed to engulf the class with its rich color. Roxas didn't even notice that the entire class had turned their heads and focused their sights on both him and Axel; he'd been too busy drowning in each and every last detail of the redhead: how his pants clung and hugged at Axel's slim build, how his hair bounced with a natural fluffiness and seemed to glow in the morning light, how _thin_ those swaying hips were, how those two triangle-shaped black tattoos, one on each cheek, seemed to complement his style in everyway. He distractedly felt his cheeks heat up.

_And his heart skipped a beat._

As if on cue, Axel suddenly turned toward the small blond and smirked. "You Strife?" he said casually, almost innocently even. Axel's too-green eyes (they seemed so deep that you could spend ten lifetimes exploring them and still have only barely covered the surface) ran over Roxas's slim body.

Roxas quickly and sullenly nodded at an angle that almost wasn't noticeable, but Axel caught the nod and sat down, eyes still evaluating every one of Roxas's traits, from his gossamer, platinum blond locks and his distinctive clothing style that was the same, yet at the same time, just different from everyone else's to his nimble and graceful hands that still hadn't stopped whirling the pencil between his fingers. Honestly intrigued by the timid blond, Axel continued to study his physical features as Roxas pointedly stared at the board and began to take notes.

Roxas never enjoyed having eyes on him or anywhere near him, but the way Axel carried himself just screamed for attention. Though the front of the class had quickly gone back to focusing on Zexion's detailed lecture on the syntax or symbolism or _something_ of some book, most of the students who sat behind Axel maintained their attention on the conspicuous new student. Although the eyes weren't concentrated on him, Roxas could still feel the almost palpable tension of the scrutinizing going on behind him.

_And his breath caught in his throat._

The walls had begun to close in on him again, and Roxas had an overwhelming urge to curl into a fetal position right then and there and just explode with the flooding emotions. His pulse began to rapidly increase, and his already porcelain skin paled even further. He shrunk into himself, only slightly, clutched his right bicep with his left hand as his right hand continued to scribble down notes. His fingers dug deeper, his pencil pressed harder, but all Roxas could focus on was the feeling of the _eyes_ on him, ready to judge and ready to ostracize.

Roxas jolted out of his trance with a small jerk of his head when the bell signifying that his first period class had finally ended shrilly rang and resounded across the school. Sighing to himself, he immediately began gathering his items and cleaning up, briskly jotting his homework down on a sheet of paper and heading out of the claustrophobic classroom when a hand gently laid itself on his shoulder. Not being accustomed to being touched by anyone, Roxas jumped a little and quickly turned around, instantly masking his discomfort with his usual face of apathy.

Roxas's oceanic midnight blue eyes met Axel's endless emerald-jade eyes for a timeless second before he ducked his head, desperately trying to hide his embarrassment. Axel, however, had a different idea and had cupped Roxas's chin to force him to look up in one graceful swoop of his arm. Everyone, including Zexion, had already vacated the classroom in favor of heading out, leaving only Roxas and Axel left in the classroom. Unable to look away from Axel's drilling eyes, Roxas found himself gravitating into the eyes' depths. It wasn't one of those "I can see into your soul" moments that overly-cheesy movies and books seemed to always integrate; Roxas just couldn't—_couldn't—_escape the magnetic pull of the brilliant color in Axel's eyes. He suddenly thought that if he were an artist, Axel would be a perfect model.

"So, Strife, you got a first name?" Axel let go of Roxas's chin and plunged both hands into his pockets, continuing smoothly. "Just thought that your first name would be a hell of a lot easier to call you by in case I needed you for something."

Complete silence in the classroom ensued for a moment before Roxas snapped out of his daze and realized that an answer was expected of him. "Roxas," he simply muttered in an almost-whisper before turning around and walking out of the classroom. He didn't expect any kind of acknowledgement, especially from someone he'd just met not an hour ago, and was surprised when he heard Axel call out, "I'll be seeing you around then, Roxas." Roxas heard rather than saw the smirk that was evident in Axel's tone. Continuing as if he hadn't heard a thing, Roxas indifferently walked through the student-laden halls, the voices mixing and mingling to form mindless background drabble. When he arrived at his class, he made a beeline for his seat in the back, next to the window.

Heavily slumping down into his seat, Roxas heaved a sigh and laid his head in his arms, habitually turning and staring out the window for a moment. Axel was… definitely different from the other students at his school. Everyone else either seemed to not care about him (which wasn't that bad, really; he didn't want to be bothered) or they seemed to feel some obligation to tease him, label him. Axel had actually talked to him. Roxas sighed yet again, knowing that there was no way Axel, or _anyone_, really, would stick with him. Why would they, after all? They didn't have any obligation to, and he was completely _fine_. He inclined his eyes back toward the front of the room, just as the bell rang.

_And he wanted to punch a wall ._Or maybe kick a boulder. Whichever hurt more.

The rest of the class passed by as usual: without any kind of distraction hindering Roxas from his schoolwork. When the bell rang, Roxas quickly and efficiently packed his supplies and headed to his next class, allowing the daily routine to sweep him away in its flurry of events, letting his body systematically take over while his mind stayed idle. Somehow avoiding the jostling from the crowds of students all walking to their classes, Roxas plopped down into his seat alone at his worktable. Of course everyone would be paired up, leaving him to work on his own; it was always like this anyway. Peripherally, he caught the sight of a brilliant red, and he instinctively raised his eyes only to be met with none other than Axel, leaning against the doorway, waiting to be introduced. Ducking his head before Axel could notice him, and before he could become too entranced by the lanky redhead, Roxas pored over the details and etchings on his desktop.

A sudden slam of a large book in the midst of all the clamor onto a table quieted all the students and pulled their eyes to the front of the room. Vexen, who was, honestly, slightly psychotic at times, glowered down at the class with a mad look in his eyes. "Class! We have a new student joining us today." Axel took this as his cue to walk into the classroom, strutting with the same air of confidence. He caught sight of Roxas glaring down at his tabletop, noticing that the only empty seat was beside him, and grinned maliciously. Already tired of introducing himself, he repeated exactly what he'd said in his previous classes and simply smirked down at the class, emerald eyes still boring into Roxas's skull.

"Your old school has informed me you have certain—," Vexen began, pausing uncertainly to search for the right word, "affinity with fire." At this, Axel's leer widened even more, if that was possible, as his eyes seemed to reminisce to some past scene in his life and simply nodded his affirmation." For this reason, you will be paired up with Roxas Strife," Vexen gestured toward where Roxas was seated. "Roxas, I hope you will be able to restrain Axel's…urges."

Once again viciously dragged out of his thoughts by a mention of his name, Roxas eyes widened as he realized what his teacher had asked of him, nearly rising out of his seat to refuse the proposal, restraining himself just in time. He had no idea why his body so violently rejected the thought of having Axel in close proximity to him; it wasn't like he hated Axel or was afraid of him, after all. He clenched his hands around his arms and drew into himself just the slightest bit.

Axel tried, and failed, to wipe the probably painful shit-eating grin off his face as he ambled over to his new seat. Roxas really truly had captivated Axel's attention from the first time his head had shot up at the mention of his name in class. Axel wondered why such a fascinating person seemed so distant, so separated and so _alone_ compared to the rest of the school. True, Roxas _was_ a little quiet, but that was no reason for him to be so isolated, and from what Axel had observed with his own eyes, it wasn't because Roxas was too arrogant or because he was too idiotic. Axel didn't know what made the kid so secluded or distinctive among all the rest of the students, but he was sure he was going to find out. His natural curiosity had been alerted, and the fact that Roxas seemed like a… very interesting guy did nothing to discourage it.

Noticing that Roxas seemed tense, almost scared even, Axel purposely kept his distance and paid attention to Vexen's lecture. Or so it appeared. No matter how hard he tried, Axel couldn't keep his eyes from straying toward the small flaxen-haired boy every few minutes. It wasn't like he _needed_ to pay attention to class anyway, at least not _this_ class. Chemistry was his best and favorite subject. I mean, hello! The acids, the bases, the _fire_. Who could resist themselves to those? Somehow managing to get his mind off Roxas, Axel resolutely listened to the lecture.

* * *

Roxas found it increasingly harder to focus on taking his notes with Axel sitting so close. It wasn't really even _that_ close, but the two feet of space was hardly enough for Roxas. Not when he was trying to avoid those all-too-knowing emerald eyes. Besides, it never—_never_—helped getting close to people; it didn't stop Naminé or Hayner or Pence or Olette, who he'd known since first grade, from abandoning him, so why would it ever help?

Throwing the thoughts of his friends (_past_ friends, his mind corrected) away from his mind, Roxas concentrated on trying to make sense out of the meaningless words scribbled onto his page. He could always rely on schoolwork to take his mind off things. Well, yeah, he needed to think, but he never really needed to_think_. He could just focus on memorizing the stupid formulas, or analyzing the damn text. It was a distraction that Roxas was only all too glad to welcome into his life.

* * *

Having nearly forgotten about Axel's presence, Roxas calmly collected his supplies after the bell had rung, once again letting the customary habits take over and guide his way throughout the day. Roxas headed out of the class, not noticing the raised eyebrows at his mechanical behavior. Axel followed Roxas out of the classroom, realizing when they'd reached the boys' locker room that they would be sharing this class, too. Axel hid an amused smirk as he watched Roxas walk toward his PE locker and went in search of the coach.

After speaking with Coach Lexeaus, the PE teacher who seemed large enough to life a truck… single-handedly…, Axel headed to the locker room to change, catching the sight of Roxas at the corner of his eye. Determinedly not watching Roxas, Axel hurried out and into the gym only seconds before Roxas followed, still in a habitual daze.

Lexeaus began to speak as soon as he was sure everyone was present. "Okay, we have a new student, Axel Fyras. Be nice," Lexeaus began, pointing to Axel. "Also, you'll be running laps today. Each person does at least five, more if you want. No extra credit. Warm up, then head out to the field." With that, the students began to move out of the gym, already forming their perfectly perfect groups to gossip and chatter about whatever the hell they wanted.

* * *

Roxas trailed behind the large groups, moving slowly, yet honestly happy with the fact that they'd be running that day. It didn't matter that it was mid-November or that the sky was threatening to snow any day now; nothing mattered except for that the fact that he could _run_. It wasn't that he was the fastest in the class or that he was training for the track team. It was just that he loved to run. That was the only reason he continued taking PE, and he was _not_ going to join the team. Not like the members would accept him, anyway.

Focusing on his breathing, Roxas took off at a slow yet steady pace when Lexeaus's signal went off. Roxas loved the feeling of the wind whipping against his skin, the small sting in his lungs as the cold air filled it; he loved the subtle ache in his muscles after he ran, the sweat forming and beginning to drip from his skin. He loved the feeling of feeling like he was _free_ for once, the feeling that he was actually doing something with his own power, the feeling of just being able to run away from everything and pour all of his emotions into running, the constant beat of his feet thudding against the grass. Schoolwork only distracted him, but running, _running_ was his _escape_, his one ticket away from the relentless monotony and hell that was his life.

_And he was flying._

Roxas never stopped, despite the burning of his lungs and muscles, passing by nearly everyone in his class and never noticing when he'd finished his fifth lap. He would never stop because there was no point to stopping. He _wanted_his lungs to throb. He _wanted_ his muscles to groan and complain because when he was on the track, he could be _himself_. He never had to worry about being labeled. What was going to label him, the ground?

* * *

As soon as Axel had finished his fifth lap, he stopped and caught his breath, making his way over to the trees, where most of the class sat, conversing with one another. Soon after Axel sat down, a few of the bolder girls began to ask him a few questions. It was the usual "_Where are you from? Is that hair color natural? Are you single? Why'd you move here?_" that annoyed him to no ends. Seriously, couldn't they at least come up with better questions instead of asking questions that he just knew they'd be writing down somewhere as data on him. Being the people person he was, Axel plastered on a smirk and easily joined in on their conversations, leaving after a few minutes to join the guys' side.

"Hi! You're Axel, right? You've been in all my classes so far today," A dirty blond exuberantly smiled at the sight of Axel. Vaguely recalling glimpses of an odd cross between a mohawk and a mullet, Axel smiled and nodded his head in greeting. "I'm Demyx Thompson. What's your schedule?"

Axel listed off his classes in order, using his fingers to help him. After spending a few moments to absorb what he'd just heard, Demyx realized something. "Seriously? Our schedule is exactly the same! Awesome!" Amused by the blond's ecstatic behavior Axel chuckled a little, when another blond passing by caught his eye.

Axel watched as the face that'd upheld a perfect mask of apathy seems so much more free and so much more natural. Granted, Axel had only known the boy for a few hours, but it was as if all the tension, all the stress, and all the worry had melted away from the small blond's countenance. It was enrapturing. Axel distantly wondered what lap Roxas was on and how he could continue to run for so long.

Demyx's eyes followed Axel's gaze when the redhead had begun to space out and ignore what he'd been saying. "Strife? Yeah, it's crazy how he can run for so long. Whenever we have to run, he always ends up running until the bell rings. He's in three of my classes, so he should be in three of yours, too." Axel tore his eyes away from the captivating flaxen-haired boy and threw himself back into the conversation. He refused to even think that he'd fallen in love. Love at first sight was a gyp, and he knew that, but he couldn't deny that the kid had captured his interest.

* * *

Roxas strode into the locker room, quickly changing and keeping his eyes on the ground. No point in giving his schoolmates any more reason to call him a fag, after all. Roxas ignored the way his clothes clung to his sweating body, enjoying the way the perspiration ran down his forehead, even.

Stopping by his locker to grab his books for his final three classes, Roxas snatched his brown sack lunch and hurried off campus, to a small park located nearby, where he knew no one would bother him.

It was a quiet and relaxing little place, filled with trees and bushes and foliage of all kinds. Roxas absently thought that if he were an artist, he would've liked to draw as he sat eating his lunch. But he wasn't. So he rested contentedly, watching the reds, oranges, golds, and browns drifting in the wind as they fell from the trees.

Roxas idly wished he could stay there forever; nothing was needed from him, no one bothered him. School brought with it the suffocating masses of people, and home? _That house _wasn't really even a _home_ to him anymore, so as far as he was concerned, he _had no home_. He had a place to live, but it wasn't really a home: a home was supposed to be your paradise, a sanctuary you could return to no matter what._That house_ did more than just suffocate him; it drowned and gagged and tore down any vestiges of hope that he'd somehow managed to acquire. Seriously? _Anywhere_ was better than _there_ to him.

Sighing, Roxas picked himself and his items up off the ground and aversely trudged back towards the school. _Only seven more months_ he reminded himself. _Seven more months until I can leave this fucking place for good_. And with that thought in mind, Roxas walked into class, thoroughly concentrated on getting through those last months and _leaving_.

* * *

Though the sun had long since set and had taken away along with it any warmth in the air, Roxas continued to deliberate going home, opting to take a route that seemed to go in circles around his house. November had barely started, yet already the weather had taken a sharp turn away from the humid and sticky heat of the summer and was quickly replacing it with a crisp frost. Roxas didn't mind the cold; it felt good on his skin after a day at work, and the numbness that came with the cold was somehow comforting.

He watched his breath float up in puffs of air as he finally neared his house. It was quiet today, and there weren't any cars in the driveway. Roxas sighed, not knowing if he should be relieved or not; sometimes, he didn't know which one was worse, the silence or noise.

Roxas entered, making sure he didn't disturb the hush that pervaded every room, and headed straight to his room. Normally, Roxas loved peace and quiet, but the eerie stillness in his house was deafening, maddening. After putting a CD on and slipping on his headphones, he got to work on his homework, flinging his thoughts into the corner and fixating his mind on memorizing the names, events, formulas, whatever the school shoved at him. After a while, his CD played out, but Roxas made no move put a new one in or to restart it; he hadn't even realized it'd stopped playing until a knock on his door startled him out of his studying.

"Rox?"

Roxas stood up and stretched a little before making his way over to the door to open it, knowing who it was behind the door even before they'd called out his name. "Yeah, Cloud?"

"I made some dinner. You hungry?" Their mother had stopped cooking for the family months ago, leaving Roxas and Cloud to fend for themselves. Assuming the role of the older brother, Cloud made it a point to cook or bring food home for him and Roxas.

Roxas smiled, genuinely, and went back in to turn his lamp off. "Starving." He hurried after his older brother downstairs. The moment he'd stepped foot onto the first story, he could smell the fragrant wafts of spaghetti drifting through the air. Eagerly, almost like a little puppy waiting for its dinner, Roxas asked, "Spaghetti?" After a nod and smile from Cloud, Roxas rushed ahead into the kitchen. "If you cooked, then I'm serving!" Roxas laughed as he brought out forks, drinks, and plates.

_And he felt happy._

Everything felt… fine. Everything was okay, because Cloud had never left him;_Cloud_ was still there for him. Cloud still _cared_, and that was all that mattered. So he let loose his laughter, his smiles, his sarcasm, dropped his mask, and was just _himself_ for once.

"Thanks. Night, Cloud," Roxas smiled as Cloud softly ruffled his hair after they'd eaten and cleaned up.

"Night, Rox." Cloud turned and headed downstairs, where Roxas could hear the faint sounds of the television. Cloud was always just a little overprotective of Roxas, always making it his duty to make sure Roxas never lacked anything, even when he didn't need to. Sighing fondly, Roxas turned and shut the door behind him, heading back to his desk to finish the last of his homework.

When Roxas had completed the last assignment, he shoved his books and pencils into his backpack and slipped into his pajamas. Glancing at his alarm clock, he noticed that it was almost two in the morning. Roxas sighed again, this time tiredly, and flicked the light off, crawling into his bed, glad that the day was _over_. Yet for some reason, before his mind drifted off to some distant, far dream world, he remembered a radiant red and a gleaming green.

* * *

A/N: The first chapter is finally (re)finished! It feels like the first... 2/3 of it is in a different style than the last part, though… And the first chapter is really uneventful, yeah, I know. Hopefully, in the next chapter or so, I can start developing Axel's and Roxas's relationship.

By the way, what Roxas and Axel felt was _not_ love at first sight. It was a _physical attraction_ and that's it. Why? Because I don't believe in love at first sight. D: And Roxas is _not_ emo. He's just got some issues. Issues that I won't reveal for… wow. A while. Yeah… I've dropped some pretty obvious hints though, especially in the last part of this chapter.

Review, please? And if you're anonymous when you review, could you please leave an email, or some way to contact you? I'd really like to be able to reply!! :)


	2. Chapter 2: Cracks in the Path

Disclaimer: Same as last chapter: still not mine, and never will be.

A/N: It took forever for me to even try to start this chapter. Why? Because I'm a freakin' lazy ass. I finally started on March 17 because a friend, who will definitely be reading this, told me I should work on one of my many story ideas (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE). And so I tried. This is the sad attempt. Too bad I didn't get it finished until over a month afterward.

* * *

Chapter 2: Cracks in the Path

--

Back then, Roxas had been as happy as happy could be. Back then, Roxas had laughed and joked and smiled constantly, naturally. Back then, Roxas felt alive, instead of just living, trudging through each and every day, hour, minute, _second_ as they passed.

But that was _then_. And this is _now_.

* * *

Roxas drearily and slowly opened his eyes, trying to relish his last vestiges of sleep before the long day ahead, and the first thing he was aware of as his mind began to whir its gears again was the obnoxious blaring of "Crank Dat" blasting into his ear. Seriously, didn't anyone care about proper spelling anymore? Blindly smacking his alarm clock in an attempt to just get the damn thing to shut the hell up, Roxas curled into the warmth of his bed for a few moments soaking up the lingering comfort before throwing the duvet aside, quickly changing into some basketball shorts, and getting ready for his routine morning jog.

Making sure not to disturb the frigid, smothering silence of the house, Roxas slipped his shoes on and made his way toward the front door. He shivered and curled just the slightest bit into himself as he opened the door and was immediately tackled by a blast of cold. Bracing himself, Roxas stepped out and stretched for a moment before beginning his jog.

The sky overhead was ominous, threatening to pour its accumulated moisture at any given moment, but Roxas didn't care. If it rained, then, well, it rained. That was that, and he liked the rain, anyway; it calmed him and made the world feel clean and new. A few minutes into his daily jog, the clouds above opened up and made way for the showers of rain to pour down from the heavens, feeling like ice against his skin. The rain numbed and soaked Roxas to the bone, its spikes of iciness stabbing through him.

He loved it.

He loved the fight and strain his muscles put up against him as he continued along the path he always took every morning, no matter the weather or circumstances. He loved how his lungs and nostrils stung with each breath he sucked in. He loved the chill that racked his body, threatening to capture him in its throngs of illness. He loved the way the water would drip off him, splattering onto the cement with a plop, congregating with the rest of the fallen drops and pooling beneath his feet.

Distantly, Roxas thought about how much Cloud would've freaked if he'd known that his little brother was jogging in the rain. The image of his brother fussing and scolding him made him laugh, even as he continued his way through the downpour. But Cloud didn't need to worry about him. Cloud already had enough to worry about, enough shit on his plate to handle without having to take on Roxas's shit, too. Roxas frowned, once again banishing all coherent thought from his mind, ignoring the, by now, burn in his lungs and the slight pounding in his head, and continuing his run.

When he finally reached his house, panting, his lungs were screaming for a proper intake of oxygen and he'd gone numb, not feeling the cold, not caring whatever the fuck happened to him or anyone else. He grabbed the towel he'd left under the overhang of the front door and quickly, messily dried himself. Roughly, yet silently, closing the door, he made his way up to his room, grabbing a fresh towel and heading for the bathroom. Turning the shower on and waiting until the steam billowed up in thick pillows, he calmly walked into the showers, skin already blossoming into red patches where the nearly scalding water slapped against him. But to Roxas, it still just _wasn't warm enough_. It wasn't that he couldn't feel the heat spreading throughout his body; it wasn't that he didn't know that most people would've yelped and rushed to turn the hot water down. Yes, he felt it drive through his body, counteracting the frost that stabbed through him earlier. But he never really _felt _it, if that made any sense at all. He was just – so _fucking cold_ all the time, even if his body temperature proved otherwise. (1)

_And he wished he could just stay there for a while, the jet stream of hot water pounding on his back and neck._

Shutting off the water, Roxas just stood there for a moment, watching as each drop thunked onto the bottom of the tub, deafeningly loud in the otherwise silent bathroom. Sighing, Roxas stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist, grabbing his dirty laundry and walking back to his room. Nothing could come to his mind, even if he'd felt like thinking. It was all blank, a large white canvas without even the smallest blemish on it. He couldn't think, didn't want to think, and so he simply collapsed onto his bed after slightly drying himself off, staring unseeingly at the clock.

After what seemed like days to Roxas, but was only a few minutes in actuality, he got up, threw on some clothing – boxers, jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie –, and fell deeper into the rhythm of the day, that constant beat of every morning, day, night that propelled him through life. Downstairs, kitchen, cook lunch, leave for school.

He reveled, lived in the monotony, and it, in return, drowned him, anchored him deep in its masses of regularity. With every step he took, every breath he breathed, he sank a little bit more into the doldrums of inveteracy. Roxas had read somewhere before that routine was the worst thing that could happen to a person. Well, fuck that. Routine was Roxas's lifeline, his only connection to the world; he fucking _needed_ it. It… was almost like some sort of sick sense of symbiosis, just almost.

It was still raining, though only barely a sprinkle, when Roxas headed off toward school. The reflection of the overcast, gray skies bounced and mirrored itself everywhere, catching itself on every solid surface there was. The perpetual _tap-tap-tap_ping of the rain against the concrete was the single source of sound as Roxas made his way slowly to school. Soon, Twilight High in all its wet, shining glory came into view, almost completely void of the usual hustle and bustle of teenage mouths and feet aside from the teachers and a few early risers.

Roxas headed to the bathroom, after having gone to his locker to grab his stuff, attempting to dry himself a little. He wasn't that wet, but he didn't want and didn't need to attract any attention by walking around the school looking like he just walked out of a shower, nope. He was perfectly fine being as invisible and non-existent as he was to the rest of the student population, _thank you very fucking much_. Roxas splashed his face with water, letting it drip for a moment before grasping the towel he'd gotten from his locker and unceremoniously rubbed at his hair, making it stick out even more messily than it already had been. Draping the towel over his neck, he stood there, hands clutching the sink basin for a while, noticing the bags under his eyes and just how _tired_ he was all of a sudden.

He sighed once more and pushed himself away, grabbing his bag and shoving the door open. He figured he could blow the rest of his time studying in the library or in the music room or something. It didn't really matter.

Too wrapped up in his thoughts to care about his surroundings, Roxas took no notice of a certain redheaded teen walking down the hall. When said teen raised his hand in greeting, all he was met with was Roxas walking past him, eyes never lifting from the ground. The grin that had been plastered on Axel's face drooped and was replaced by a slight frown that almost looked somewhat like a pout. Axel huffed indignantly.

"Did I do something wrong? I mean, he totally just blew me off there." Unexpectedly, his answer came in the form of a laugh from Demyx.

"Nah, dude. Don't worry. He's always been like that to everyone. As far as I know, anyway."

Axel didn't reply, but his frown visibly softened as he stared into the hallway, where Roxas had just been a few moments ago.

* * *

The clock ticked, almost too loud in the too quiet library, signaling as each second, each minute grudgingly and slowly passed. It was completely empty, save for Roxas and the librarian, to the point where it almost seemed wrong. At lunch and after school, the library was always packed with kids using the computers to check their mail, MySpace, or do some last minute project or other. Roxas didn't mind, really; he could read in peace here, in the mornings, at least. The solitude and silence never tried to push him or urge him to do something he didn't want to. It was comfortable, this quietude.

But as the minutes flitted by, more and more students started to enter, the noise decibel rose, and Roxas's frustration steadily surmounted the scale. Did these people have to talk _wherever they went_? It wasn't as if they could've conveniently forgotten to be quiet. There were signs at every table, on every freaking shelf reminding them to "Shh! Be quiet, please!"

_They should just kick out anyone who spoke louder than a whisper, damn it. Who the hell can study in _this_?!_ Roxas sighed, and put his book down. There was no way he could concentrate, not in _that_ level of noise, so he contented himself by staring out the window.

The snow was starting to come, the white powder having touched upon the tips of the mountains surrounding the area. The chilly breeze from the north painted frost on windows, pots, cars, houses every morning and night. To Roxas, it was a welcome change, after six months of humid, hot weather and sticky air. The cold air was crisp and easier to breathe than the warmth that hung like a blanket of polluted water for half the year. But as much as Roxas loved the cold, he didn't really want the snow to come, not just yet, anyway. If it snowed, the he'd be stripped of his outdoor morning jogs and reduced to the treadmill for however long the snow decided to stay. Really, it wasn't _that_ bad, but he'd take being in the fresh air to being cooped up in the garage any day.

At that moment, the bell rang, and Roxas stood, gathering his stuff without missing a beat. His gaze lingered out the window for a few more moments, until the room and most of the hallways had cleared enough so that he wouldn't have to dodge and evade the masses of teens. As he turned around a corner into the corridor of his history class, someone ran into him, sending him to the floor. Roxas didn't look up, just began gathering his books without even acknowledging the other person until said offender spoke.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to—Rox?" At the use of his nickname, Roxas looked up, only to meet the gaze of his cousin. "Sorry. Really, I am. I wasn't looking where I was going." Roxas sighed – he seemed to be doing that a lot lately – and got back to picking himself up.

"It's okay, Sora. Not like I got hurt, so it's fine." Without another word, Roxas turned and began walking toward his classroom again. What he didn't expect was for Sora to fall into step with him, even if they did have the class together.

"So how're you and Cloud doing these days? I haven't talked to either of you in a while."

The fact that Sora had asked about Cloud and him, not just their family or his parents didn't escape Roxas, and he noticed how, as they walked, Sora's eyes would occasionally flit over to glance at him for a split second, as if gauging his reactions. Roxas, however, didn't comment on the brunet's strange behavior and, instead, tucked away the knowledge for later. After a few moments' pause, he opened his mouth to speak, pointedly staring ahead. "We're fine, same as always."

"Hm. Really. So, how're," Sora paused here, obviously hesitating, "Auntie Katrina and Uncle Matt?"

To anyone else, the conversation seemed to be a normal one between two cousins, Sora's hands clasped behind the back of his neck as he walked with Roxas to their next class. But Roxas had known Sora, and Sora had known Roxas, for far too long to not notice the other's shoulders held painfully straight and stiffened back. To any passing student, the air between the two was one of nonchalance or relaxed silence, but both Sora and Roxas knew that was untrue; the tension was heavy and laced the air with an almost deadly feeling.

The two continued walking, Roxas not answering Sora and Sora not expecting an answer. When they reached their history class, Roxas simply said, "Fine," and went to sit down next to a window in the back of the classroom. He could tell that Sora was watching him worriedly throughout the lesson, even if he didn't _need_ to. Roxas just continued to ignore Sora, but he couldn't shake off the… _weird_ feeling in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

As soon as the bell rang once again, Roxas was up and out, desperately wanting to rid that sensation that still hadn't left him. It was just… odd and didn't sit right with him. He sighed for the umpteenth time that day and made his way to his next class. When he arrived at English, Zexion was already there, looming over the class from his podium, and Roxas silently slipped into his seat, peripherally noticing that Axel had already been sitting down. Zexion didn't bother waiting for the bell to ring; as soon as the last student sat down, he began speaking.

"You have a project to be due a week from today," he started, getting straight to the point. He handed stacks of papers to the people in the front row, wordlessly instructing them to pass it back. "On the handout that you will receive, it discusses the grading criteria and the weight of each element to be included in the project. You and a partner – don't move just yet, I will be assigning partners – will be working on this on your own time. No class time will be given to complete this after today, and absolutely no pardons will be given, unless you are able to convince me that something unavoidable has drastically changed your schedule. If so, speak to me privately, and we will arrange something. All the information you need is on the handout." Zexion paused in his pacing in front of the class here and turned around with a click of his shoes. "Are there any questions?"

When no hands rose, Zexion went back to his podium in three swift strides. "Your partners for this project are decided fairly simply. Columns A and B are paired up, C and D, and E and F. Your partner is the person sitting directly adjacent to you, no diagonals, and no switching partners.

"Well, if there are no questions, you have the rest of today, and only today, in class to collaborate with one another. See me if any issues or concerns arise." Zexion went over to his desk and sat down, intending to grade papers, research something or other, read a book, something for the rest of the period, letting the class do as they wished. However, for the first few moments, no one dared to get out of his or her seat, in fear of angering Zexion. As the seconds passed, the first few brave students turned to their partners and started to converse – in hushed tones, of course, and before long, the entire class was immersed in discussion. Though, if one were to examine the classroom closely, one would find out that the students were talking much more quietly than they would have in any other classroom.

Both Axel and Roxas, however, stayed silent longest out of the students. Both had turned to face each other for a few seconds after Zexion had first announced their partners, but Roxas had ducked his head, ears slightly pinker than usual, after a scant number of moments. The reticence from the two was surprising, at least to Roxas, who had expected Axel to be the first to burst loudly into conversation, evoking a streak of annoyance from their teacher, and getting a warning that was _extremely_ intimidating in its quiet tone and forced tension. Roxas, soon unable to stand just _sitting_ there without doing anything, got his Macroeconomics book out from his backpack, and started completing his homework. There wasn't anything _else_ he could do, now was there? So he figured he might as well do something productive rather than just stare at his desk.

Axel, taking the hint that they weren't going to be working together just then, followed Roxas's example and read from his Music Theory textbook, taking notes as their teacher had instructed. And so, the two sat in not quite comfortable, not quite awkward silence, each working on his own activity as the rest of the class buzzed with muffled conversations. As time passed and class was nearing its end, Axel sighed, a spark of impatience rippling through the air, and turned to Roxas.

"Look, Roxas, right? I don't want to leave a bad impression on a teacher at a new school, and I'm sure you don't want to fail this assignment, either. So what'dya say? Can we get this project over with and let things fall as they may afterward, if you want to hate me or whatever?"

Roxas opened his mouth, only to close it again, eyes slightly wider than usual due to Axel's sudden disruption of the hush between the two of them. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

At Roxas's acquiescence, Axel's face fell back into its customary smirk, and he jotted something down on a corner of his notebook, ripping it out and giving it to Roxas. "S'my number, so you can call me or something later and we can talk about this project. You got a number?" Roxas nodded, keeping his eyes down all the while as he neatly penned his own phone number and labeled it on a fresh sheet of paper, handing it to Axel. "Alright, then. So I'll call you later tonight, 'kay?"

Roxas nodded once more, eyes whipping to the clock and beginning to clean up. "Alright, but after eight, only."

"That works out for me, 'cause I'm busy until around then, too." Axel followed Roxas's movement, also noticing the time, and imitated Roxas, putting away his supplies.

When the bell rang, rather than immediately walking out of the class, as most other students would, everyone quieted down, attentions focused on their teacher, who was still working at his desk. "Alright class, you are dismissed." The class rose from their seats, almost in perfect unison, not daring to break into chatter until after they'd left the room. Roxas was one of the last to leave, and when he exited, he found Axel leaning against the wall next to the doorway, apparently waiting for Demyx, who'd gone to talk to Zexion. Axel's eyes met his own, and he smirked as he waved.

"See ya later, Rox."

Roxas walked away, giving Axel a brief, shy little wave and ducking his head as he walked through the hallways. It was only time for second period, and yet Roxas already felt so vague, yet strongly – disconcerted and weirded out.

* * *

A soft, cool breeze, heavy with the morning's downpour, drifted through Roxas's open window, the curtains fluttering lightly in the wind's wake as Roxas sat at his desk, pencil tapping lightly on the wood to the rhythm of "Hello Helicopter" while he read from his French textbook. It was relaxing to be able to just sit there, his music drifting through his room, filling it up and shielding him from the stifling silence. The scent of fresh rain wafted through his window, acting as a natural tranquilizer and bringing a vague smile to his face. Even as a kid, he'd always loved the rain: it sedated him as he finished the last of his homework – a simple worksheet based on the text.

As soon as he completed the worksheet, he leaned back in his chair for a moment, raising his eyes to the ceiling and sighing. After a few moments, he put his pencil down and went over to his bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling once more, letting the soft music and lyrics wash over him.

"_Hello helicopter, are you lost out there? Swimming through the garbage dump that fills the air."_

Roxas wasn't lost, at least, not out there. He knew where he wanted to go for college, knew what he wanted to major in, knew what to do with his life. He'd _had_ everything planned for years now. There wasn't anything anyone could say or do that would deter him from accomplishing this. It was his dream, his goal, and he'd do _anything_ to achieve it. Roxas just wanted to help, make a difference, however small or slight, in the world. He was going to succeed and show all those people who'd knocked him down that he could still stand up, with or without their assistance or influence in his life. He—

Sounds of a guitar sliced through Roxas's contemplations, and he sat up, looking over to his phone and wondering who was calling him. Cloud had already come home, and he was never so lazy to the point of calling Roxas's phone when he was inside the house. Roxas walked over to his desk, picking up the phone and hesitantly answering. "Hello?"

"Hey. Uhm, is this Roxas Strife's phone number?" A familiar voice crackled on the other end of the line – Axel's voice.

"Oh. Yeah. Hey."

"Yo, Rox." Axel's smirk was obvious, even through the phone, as he spoke. "So, I'm not calling you at a bad time, am I? I can call back later if you want." Roxas's eyes darted toward his alarm clock as he lay back down: 10:38 P.M. That wasn't too bad.

"It's fine." A short silence swallowed the two of them, broken when Roxas spoke again. "The project – who do you want to do?"

"Well, Roxas. We have our pick from a large variety of dead, old writers. Whoever you want to do is fine with me. Really, I'm fine with doing research on pretty much anyone, as long as they're well known enough, so that we don't have to dig through piles of old books just to find the person's basic info. So your favorite author or whatever'll do."

"How's Jack Kerouac?"

"Okay, then. So how should we work on this? I don't think we could finish this completely at school, and it'd be harder to correspond through emails or instant messaging or something than it would be to just meet up. So the question is, my place or yours?" At this, Roxas paused for a moment, mind reeling. Axel couldn't come here, he just couldn't. What if— "Hello? Roxas? Are you there?"

"Not my house," Roxas nearly screamed, restraining himself at the last second, but the emotion in his voice still showed through his poor concealment. He was sure Axel noticed and was warily eying the phone, but just decided to continue, masking his thoughts. "Sorry. Just – not my place." Axel's teeth clicked audibly, and another bout of quiet engulfed the two of them before Axel spoke, acting as if Roxas's outburst had never happened. Everyone had his or her own secrets to hide, and Axel didn't want to pry, not when he'd known the blond for, what, less than two days?

"Alright. My place, it is, but I think we should still meet up during lunch or something at school. We could plan how we want to do the project and gather information, instead of cramming it all in at the last moment on the weekend."

"Okay."

"Ah, crap. I gotta go, but just wait for me – or I'll wait for you – after PE so that we can talk about it more during lunch. See ya, Roxas."

The line went dead before Roxas could even say "bye" to Axel, but he said it anyway, staring at the phone and wondering what the hell just went on. Everything about that day was just – weird, from Sora asking him how he was, and seeming sincere, to Axel not asking why Roxas freaked out and just ignoring it, giving him space. He'd yet to shake the feeling out of his system, and it continued to sap at his energy until he was left feeling exhausted. He forced himself out of bed to turn the music down, but still leaving it on, and the light off before crashing in a fatigued lump on his bed, the sound of the piano lulling him to sleep. And yet, he vaguely, for some reason, dreaded the coming weekend.

* * *

A/N: (1) This paragraph's kinda confusing. The first "cold" in "not feeling the cold," I meant as a weather sort of thing. The second mention of cold as in "He was just – so _fucking cold_ all the time," I meant as a more internal sort of cold... Not sure if this explanation even makes sense, but yeah.

It's DONE!! Finally. whew It felt really good to write this again, really. Especially in the last week or so, because I started not procrastinating as much and spending more time on it. So I hope you enjoy this chapter? Next chapter won't take as long because my Saturdays will soon be free, and I'll be trying to write more, too. It'll be done definitely by the time summer starts.

Review, please?


	3. Chapter 3: Lose with Eloquence and Smile

Disclaimer: _If only_ Kingdom Hearts were mine. I own the game. But _my brother_ took it with him when he moved. D: So I don't even have that anymore. Title comes from "Consequence" which belongs to The Notwist. "Dark Blue" is by Jack's Mannequin.

A/N: To **Priscilla**, who will probably never read this, because you made me listen to "Dark Blue," which inspired an onslaught of writing. Until the computer died. Luckily, none of my files were actually _lost_. But about a page of this chapter was, so I had to rewrite it. Way later than I'd intended, but hey, at least I got it up before June ended, right?

* * *

Chapter 3: Lose With Eloquence and Smile

--

The beat of "Dark Blue" pumped and pulsated through Roxas's body as he made his way down the street, bobbing his head almost imperceptibly all the while. The clouds had decided to let up today, allowing the sun to shine through, and Roxas inhaled, long and deep, soaking up the lingering scent of the rain. He kicked at a puddle, watching as the drops of water scattered and showered back down.

Father Time waited for no one, and Saturday had come, as much as Roxas had wished it wouldn't. And he'd _really_ wished it wouldn't, even if he didn't know exactly why. It made him uncomfortable to think of going to a classmate's house. The last time he'd gone to anyone else's house was… Hayner. Hayner and Olette and Pence and Namine. And even _that_ had been nearly four years ago. It wasn't that he'd thought having friends was horrible or something. Just… no one bothered to get to know him _at all_ since Hayner and the rest, and if having close friends meant heartbreak, then he could do without them, even if he hated the loneliness clawing inside him.

A cold breeze blew by, taking along with it his thoughts, and Roxas shivered for a moment before decidedly changing his route to take a longer way to Axel's house. He sighed and turned his eyes to the blue sky spotted with tufts of white and gray, wondering just what he was supposed to expect from Axel. I mean, he'd only known the guy for a few _days_, less than a week. Roxas silently cursed Zexion in his mind, wondering what possessed his mind to assign a partner project. Going over to Axel's house _could've _been avoided too, if Axel hadn't refused Roxas's offer to just complete the damn project by himself. He didn't _care_ if it was unfair on his part; he's rather lose sleep and get a good grade than have to deal with the awkwardness that he _knew_ today was going to be.

Lowering his gaze, Roxas shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pouch, fingering his phone, and sped up his pace. Within a few minutes, Roxas had reached Axel's apartment, and, after double-checking that he was at the right address, he headed up to ring the doorbell on number B21. He stepped back, letting his focus wander once more to admire his surroundings. Well, at least Axel's apartment wasn't in the slums of the city; it wasn't the _best_ apartment block around, but it wasn't somewhere that Roxas wouldn't want to walk alone at night. That, if nothing else, calmed him down a little, letting him relax and take another deep breath while he waited for Axel to come to the door. After a few moments, Roxas heard a muffled, "Fucki-damn! Just a minute!" and, soon enough, the door burst open, Axel standing in the doorway, slightly out of breath and his hair even more unkempt than usual.

"Hey, Rox. Sorry about the wait," Axel stepped aside, smirk in place and hand combing through his hair in an attempt to somewhat tame it, and let Roxas enter. Roxas let his gaze freely wander around the apartment as he walked through it. "I had to clean up some of the shit Reno left around." At Roxas's quizzical silence, he continued, "Reno's my older brother." Keeping his face carefully devoid of emotion, Roxas grunted softly in acknowledgement and went back to looking around. Axel's apartment was… nice, homely with its coffee-colored walls, adorned with posters and paintings that seemed to splatter on the walls with no real sense of arrangement, almost an artwork in itself.

If one thing struck Roxas as odd, it was the lack of personal photographs. The living room had nearly every other type of décor, musical instruments, giant prints of famous paintings, even a voodoo doll in the corner, but there wasn't a single photo of Axel or Reno or any of their family.

The silence continued for a few more moments, Roxas swiveling around to look at Axel before opening his mouth to speak. "So, should we get started and just get it over with?"

"Alright, then. Out here has the most space, so we'll work here. Reno won't bother us, he's won't be coming home till late, anyway." Axel walked into one of the rooms in the hallway, coming out a moment later with a backpack.

The two worked quietly, speaking only when strictly necessary, and efficiently together. As time went on, the silence between the two became less awkward and more usual and comfortable. After a few hours, they were nearly finished, with just a few final touch-ups left to go.

"I can fix the rest up on my own," Axel said lazily as he leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes. One eye opened to peer at Roxas as he tapped on the wooden table, not looking up from his work.

"It's okay, I'll do it." Axel grunted, signaling that he was fine with finishing the project, before sitting up and looking at Roxas.

"Look, you walked here, right? How would you carry this all home _and_ to school? It'd be easier for me, I've got a car." Roxas stayed still for a moment, realizing that he'd lost the argument, before curtly nodding once and pushing the sheet of paper away, going back to looking around at the walls.

Somewhere in the living room, a clock chimed eerily four times, and Axel spoke up once the bells had ceased, "We finished sort of early, didn't we?" When Roxas showed no sign of acknowledgement, Axel sighed exasperatedly, eyes narrowing. "Are you like this with everyone?" Roxas twisted around in his seat on the floor to look at Axel but made no attempt to say anything. Axel rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from the floor, stalking away. Roxas heard the sound of a refrigerator door opening and closing, and when Axel came back, he held two cans of root beer in his hands. He tossed a can to Roxas before speaking.

"Look, you wanna stick around for a while? For a movie, random talking, whatever shit? Doesn't look like you had any plans today, anyway. It's only four. We should make the best of the rest of our Saturday, at least."

Roxas bit his lip for a second, clearly torn on whether to stay or go home before he grudgingly nodded. "A movie'd be okay with me." He bit down a dry laugh, after all, it's not like he really _did_ have anything to do at home.

He got up to help organize the mess of papers littered over the floor and table and move them to Axel's room, quickly sweeping his eyes over the walls – no photos – before stepping back out, where Axel had already grabbed a movie and began starting it up. He sat down in the closest seat, watching at the redhead fumbled with the controls for a while.

"Hey, Rox! The movie's starting!" Roxas cringed at the volume of Axel's voice, glaring.

"I'm right here. You didn't have to yell." Axel jumped, apparently surprised at Roxas's proximity, and grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you come back in, so I thought you were still in my room," he chuckled, the sound low and deep in his throat, echoing in the room. "I'm gonna order some food, you want anything?" Roxas silently shook his head, but Axel chose to ignore it, instead heading into the kitchen, stating, "I'll order a large deluxe pizza."

Roxas turned his sights back onto the television screen, absentmindedly watching the previews, when Axel walked back out, running a hand through his hair and plopping down next to Roxas on the sofa.

Once again, silence reigned supreme as the two simply sat, Axel distractedly tapping against the sofa arm. A while later, when the doorbell rang, he got up to answer it, coming back with a pizza in his hands. Axel immediately snatched up a slice, quickly finishing it off and grabbing another, when he noticed Roxas was just sitting back, watching.

"I bought a large for a reason. You can eat, too, y'know. You can't tell me you aren't hungry, we worked for six hours on that damn project," Axel stared flatly at Roxas until he reluctantly grabbed a slice, mumbling thanks. "S'not a problem."

The rest of the movie was spent in silence, the term here being relative. Occasionally, the two of them bursting into peals of laughter, Roxas in spite of himself, at the complete irony that spilled from the dysfunctional girls' boarding school in the movie. As the ending credits rolled and the nearly annoyingly peppy song played, Roxas vaguely thought that the last time he'd let his guard down so much in front of someone other than Cloud was – with Hayner. Hayner and Olette and Pence and Naminé. The realization hit him hard, leaving him wondering just why the hell he was so comfortable with Axel.

It was mildly disconcerting – how Axel managed to get so far under his skin in such little time with so little effort.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when Axel pushed himself up from the sofa, stretching, and turned the television set off. "That was a good movie." Roxas simply nodded dumbly in reply for a moment before standing up.

"I'm gonna use your bathroom, 'kay?" Roxas saw Axel nod when he threw a glance over his shoulders as he walked into the hallway. Turning on the light as he went in, he closed the door behind him, leaning on it for a second before bracing himself on the sink countertop, staring deep into his own reflection. He splashed water on his face and patted his face dry for a bit. "Goddamn it, Roxas. Get a hold of yourself."

He sighed, wiping his face, and went back into the living room, where Axel was lying down on the couch, arms crossed and eyes closed. He stood, staring vacantly at Axel for a few moments, eyes not focusing on any one object, before shaking himself out of it.

"Axel." At the sound of his name Axel burst into a sitting position, hair whipping around wildly, eyes comically wide.

"Jesus! Holy _shit_, Rox! Are you like a fucking _ninja_ or something? Stop sneaking up on me like that." Roxas merely blinked, expression blank, before turning to walk away.

"Today was… nice. Thanks, but I have to get going. Bye." As Roxas slipped his shoes on, Axel vaulted himself over the back of the sofa, landing soundly.

"Hold on. I'll walk you home," he said, the grin on his face already slapped on. Roxas made a sound of disapproval in his throat and opened the door, turning back to face Axel, frowning slightly.

"It's okay. I'm not a _girl_, I can walk home alone."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to walk you back, s'not a crime, is it? Besides, I have some things I need to pick up, anyway." Axel laughed at Roxas's expression, ruffling his hair before going to grab his keys. When he emerged from hallway, Roxas turned and left, leaving the door open and Axel to catch up with him.

The setting sun provided a vibrant backdrop of blood reds, vivid oranges, burning its way into the sky, singeing the edges of the clouds and setting the world ablaze. The walk, like most of their day, was reticently relaxing. Roxas had slipped his earphones in, getting blissfully lost in the sounds of the music as he walked the streets, somehow navigating his way. Axel, beside the blond, let his gaze wander freely, stealing glances at Roxas every now and then.

It was odd. Definitely weird. But it felt _safe_ and comfortable somehow, and that was more than whatever Roxas had hoped.

It was only when they'd reached his house that Roxas had climbed out of this dreamlike state and remembered that Axel was with him. They stood, facing each other, neither of them saying anything for a bit, Roxas's eyes trained on the brick design of his front porch. When the content silence grew uneasy and awkward, Axel opened his mouth to speak, knowing Roxas wouldn't.

"It was nice today, both working with you and the movie, y'know? Definitely better than just watching a movie by myself or hanging with Reno." Roxas hummed deep in his throat and nodded, keeping his eyes down before looking up into the startling green of Axel's eyes.

"It was nice." Roxas's lips turned upward, just the tiniest bit, and he ducked his head, averting Axel's gaze. Axel chuckled, the sound echoing slightly, then ruffled Roxas's hair once more.

"Well I've gotta go. See you, Rox." He turned and walked away, throwing a lazy wave over his shoulder.

Roxas watched for a few seconds before unlocking the door and entering his house, the smile still on his lips. He dumped his stuff on the ground next to his bed before falling face down into his pillow, head burrowing downward slightly. He realized with slight surprise that Axel didn't put him on edge, didn't try to pry or dig his nose into Roxas's private matters. He stopped just short of shattering the boundaries Roxas had erected around him, merely leaning against the wall and knocking every now and then. When he spotted a crack, he did nothing but move to cover it up, hiding the possibilities of exposure.

It confused Roxas to no end. Axel had no incentive to do all this; they were practically strangers, only having known each other for a few days, not even a week, yet. It was unnatural, wasn't it? To indiscriminately treat someone you'd just met so well. It bewildered him even more so when he'd looked back and contemplated on his coarseness toward the redhead in the time that he'd known the other. It made absolutely no sense at all. It frustrated him, made him wonder whatever the hell was going on in that head, or if anything at all was actually functioning.

It struck him, slick and piercing, an arrow breaking through the defense of his ribs, grazing his heart.

And it only hurt more when he realized that he was letting his guard down, leaving him completely visible and vulnerable. He hadn't _meant_ to, not at all, but it was almost – reflexive, instinctive, automatic from being around the easy laughs, sincere remarks.

Axel was like being on a rooftop at night, Roxas mused. You were always reluctant and just a bit afraid of going, but once you got there, your shoulders slumped as the night air filled your lungs, lulling you to a doze; it was only when time passed and he left that you burst up feeling vaguely disoriented, like you were fraying at the edges, and wondering just why you approached him in the first place. It left Roxas with his fingers digging, nearly ripping into his pillow, throat clenched.

He bit his lip, questioning what he should do. He didn't deny that the movie he'd watched today with Axel was relaxing, pleasing even, but what the hell was he supposed to do? Just open up and pour his Goddamn fucking heart out unconditionally? Just how was he supposed to figure out if he could trust Axel or not? He took a deep breath, held it in for as long as he could until his lungs burned just the slightest bit, and trembled as he exhaled.

It was time for focusing on something else, he decided, blindly groping for the headphones lying at the head of his bed and slipping into the music, blissfully _away_ from reality.

* * *

Sunday had come and gone, as short and fleeting as a fly's life, leaving no large impact in Roxas's world. Just as quickly as it had come into existence, it had gone, leaving Monday in its place and Roxas in the locker room, all but throwing his clothes onto his small frame and briskly stepping out, only to have his hand ensnared. Unconsciously ripping his back, Roxas continued on, speeding up his pace the slightest bit until a familiar voice – nasal, almost to the point of annoyance – called out, whipping his head back to find Axel, leaning against the wall right outside the door of the locker room.

"Yo," Axel grinned, flickering his hand in a wave. All he received in reply was a blink of those icy blue eyes. The silence between the two this time continued as the halls filled up with more and more people, Axel apparently intent on forcing the blond to be the one to speak up first.

As even more teens, all prattling away, raising their voices to be heard over the noise of others, trampled through the hallway, Roxas's enochlophobia flared, his nerves tingling and his brain telling him in no uncertain terms to get out of there.

"Did you need something, Axel? The project's been turned in," he said, strikingly calm, contradicting the small bursts if panic erupting on his skin. At Roxas's words, Axel's amused countenance grew, evidently pleased by the fact that he'd gotten Roxas to speak, and he pushed himself from the wall, stretching.

"Nothing much. Just wanted to see if you wanted to go eat lunch with Dem and me is all."

Roxas opened his mouth, fully prepared for a moment to firmly refuse and move on. Then he considered agreeing. He couldn't find any real reason to actually decline the offer, after all, and if the past week was any indication, Axel would, at the very least, demand a reason as to _why_ he couldn't join them or follow Roxas to the park anyway.

"Rox?"

He closed his mouth, slipping his eyes shut as well before dipping his head in a small nod.

"Well, okay then," the redhead said, lips curved in a triumphant smirk. "You wanna go to—" But Roxas had already turned away and began to walk in the direction of his locker, leaving Axel to catch up with him. The taller teen sighed exasperatedly, the smirk that had softened into a smile still on his face as he jogged through the crowds to keep up with the smaller blond.

After having gotten his books, Roxas was led outside by Axel to a bench in a fairly empty area where a sandy blond sat, head bobbing to some sort of music flowing from the headphones he had on. As the two approached, Axel reached a hand out to yank the headphones pounding almost painfully loud from the other's head, said sandy blond twisting around, obviously pissed.

"Hey, man! What's your—Oh, hey, Ax, hey Roxas," he said, instantly cordial, as soon as he recognized who'd snuck up on him.

"Hey. Roxas, this is Demy—"

"I _know_ who he is. I'm _not_ stupid; he's in three of my classes. I'm not as oblivious as you think I am, Axel." What had been simply a blank, if not somewhat confused, look before had turned into a scowl, eyes dangerously narrowed. "Just because I'm not close to people doesn't mean I don't know who they are." With a huff, he threw himself down into a seat, as far away from Demyx as possible, while staying on the same side of the table, clearly telling Axel that just because he'd accepted the invitation doesn't meant that they were instantly buddy-buddy. "Hey, Demyx."

After an uneasy moment or two, Axel sat down, opposite of Demyx. Eventually, the two began to converse, first, in low tones, increasing in volume as the tense atmosphere died out and they'd realized that Roxas was simply looking on, no longer offended for whatever reason. It was overall a pretty quiet lunchtime for Axel and Demyx, somewhat muted by the presence of the aloof blond. But Axel could've sworn that every once in a while, when he and Dem burst into bouts of raucous laughter, he saw Roxas's lips quirk up, just the tiniest bit.

It felt like progress and, maybe, that the door Roxas had slammed and locked so tightly was unlocking bit by bit.

* * *

A week had passed since Axel first invited Roxas to eat lunch with him and Demyx, and the weather had steadily and definitely gotten colder, forcing them to dress warmer, though they didn't just eat in the cafeteria like most other students.

For some reason Roxas couldn't understand, Axel continued to wait for him after PE everyday, and, even stranger, Roxas couldn't find it in himself to refuse. Each day so far, he'd sat in his corner of the bench, nearly silently listening in on Axel's and Demyx's conversations, sometimes throwing in his own comment. A few times, he'd caught himself laughing at the idiocy of their talks, but he still didn't understand _why_ he let his guard down so much in front of Axel, even in front of Demyx. He hadn't done this with _anyone_, with the exception of Cloud (Always with the exception of Cloud, because Cloud was his brother, and you couldn't expect more.) in so long, and he had absolutely no idea why _now_, of all times, he was.

Roxas sighed heavily, bringing his eyes up to catch Axel's back and digging his hands deep into his pockets. Sighing once more, he stopped walking, instead just staring blankly at the ground and lightly scuffing the tip of his shoe against the dirt.

Axel, noticing that the sounds of Roxas walking behind him had ceased, turned around, eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Roxas?"

Roxas closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and stilled his movements as he exhaled.

"Rox? What's going on?"

He let the silence fill the air for a few moments before snapping his head up, catching Axel's eye, and speaking suddenly, a certain intensity in his words and a blazing fire in his eyes.

"Why do you and Demyx keep inviting me to lunch?

Axel gaped at Roxas for a moment, obviously taken back by Roxas's abrupt burst, before, to Roxas's major surprise, laughing, the sound almost echoing in the silent, still air.

"Is that all? This is what's gotten you all pissed today?" He smiled, the action free and completely true, without any hint of sarcasm. "We're friends, aren't we? It's what friends do." He turned, leaving Roxas feeling completely vulnerable and weak, and began walking, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Come on. Dem's waiting for us."

Roxas mutely, blindly followed Axel, his mind trying to wrap around what the redhead had said. He didn't speak for the rest of the day.

* * *

Thinking back on his habits, Roxas found that he always thought on his bed. Maybe it was the comfort or the familiarity of his room, but the contemplations always seemed to flow so much more easily when he was here. It was a certain atmosphere or aura, if you would, that his room embedded, deep in his subconscious mind, he supposed. Sometimes, it seemed almost – obscene to actually speak in his room, like the absence of voices was sacred or something.

He pushed himself out of bed and walked over to his bookcase, grabbing his dictionary before once again slumping down on his bed. He threw the thick lexicon open, flipping through the pages before stopping, his finger running along the lines as he read.

Friend n. – a person whom one knows well and is fond of; intimate associate; close acquaintance

Friendship n. – friendly feeling or attitude; friendliness

He closed the dictionary with a snap, placing it on the ground beside his bed and rolled over to look at the ceiling, as if it would give him answers if he stared at it long enough. He ran his hands over his face, fingers reaching into his hair to tug lightly at the unruly spikes. He threw an arm over his head to cover his face and close his eyes.

This was _not_ helping. The dictionary hadn't given him any sort of answer; all it did was complicate his thoughts further.

Axel had said that they were _friends_, but how _could_ they be, when they'd barely known each other for two weeks? Since Axel, Axel, _Axel_ came into his life, nothing was making any _sense _anymore! What ever happened to the normalcy, the routine in his life?

It was all just so _messed up_. How could they be friends, when all Roxas'd done was be a complete and total jackass? And yet, _still_, no matter how rude or arrogant or quiet Roxas was, Axel just laughed it off, spread his contagious smile, even _ helped_ Roxas cover up the cracks and splits in his mask. What sort of person did that?

He raised his hand, clenched it into a fist, and slammed it into the wall, relishing in the pain it brought.

The questions were endless, relentless, didn't even have a sign of yielding anytime soon, pushed, fought, and dove their way through into Roxas's had to lodge themselves permanently in some corner of this brain. He sighed, yet again, and let a mirthless laugh sprint from his throat. He was just being another emo little fuck, now, so overly sentimental. A bit less desperate and a bit calmer, Roxas thought, this time, trying not to think himself into circles.

Okay, he conceded, Axel and Demyx, if anything, made him unwind, breathe a bit more easily. Made him feel less lonely. Maybe, it was as simple as that. Maybe, just maybe, that was all he needed, and all _they_ needed was a chance. It wasn't like he had anything to lose, after all.

* * *

A/N: So basically, Roxy's got a bit of trust problems. I… don't like this chapter. But URGH. Not gonna spend any more time on it, so that I can go onto the next chapter.

Next chapter soon-ish, I hope. Before July ends, definitely, though. Two chapters or so until a peek into Roxas's problems. I think.

Remember to please leave me some way to contact you if you review anonymously, please!


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